


Felled in the Night By the Ones You Think You Love

by Ganelon8



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Consent is Sexy, Harrow the Ninth Spoilers, Just Sex, Missing Scene, Multi, Polyamory, Smut, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25715941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ganelon8/pseuds/Ganelon8
Summary: An expansion of the brief moment when an emperor and two saints made out before Harrow fled the room, from John's POV. Really just smut.
Relationships: Augustine/John/Mercymorn
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	Felled in the Night By the Ones You Think You Love

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bastille's "Daniel in the Den" which my dear friend charismaticalpaca suggested as a song for this trio
> 
> All of my friends knew exactly which part of Harrow I was most delighted with and from this fic it is quite obvious. Comments and feedback is appreciated, I hope you enjoy <3

There had been tension in the air through the whole dinner party.

Harrow, hunched in the dress Ianthe had somehow convinced her to slip into, looked as though she weren’t sure whether to lean into or away from the other young woman, who was looking at everyone else with interest in her bright eyes. Gideon sat with his face passive, unsmiling, unamused by the events at the table. On each of John’s sides, at his right and left hands, sat Mercy and Augustine, both merry with wine, smiling and laughing with their faces flushed.

The tension had been the usual arguing of Mercy and Augustine, Harrow hating each of them, Ianthe trying to insert herself into the center, Gideon as a heavy presence who didn’t laugh. But, John noticed only as Mercy and Augustine both leaned forward in their argument, there had been tension of another kind.

He didn’t know how it had gone right by him, flowing past him to the other it was directed at as surely as a sword to the heart. John wasn’t sure if he or Harrow were more surprised when this came to a breaking point. Mercy was half leaning over the table already, so when Augustine met her halfway, their eyes locked on one another’s, as though no one else were present.

And when they kissed, well. John wasn’t sure he would have been able to look away, even if they hadn’t been nearly on his lap.

He didn’t notice as Gideon strolled out of the room as casual as anything, as Harrow had to nearly drag Ianthe away, but not before Mercy and Augustine broke apart. Mercy, for once in her life, was grinning, lips stained dark from the wine, her cheeks painted with a warm blush. It was even easier to see the pink in Augustine’s cheeks with how pale he was, the gold and silver of his hair catching in the sparse light, and when the Saint of Patience turned to him, John knew that his own expression would be instantly readable.

Augustine just quirked an eyebrow for half an instant, lips tilted vaguely upward. John gave the barest nod, then Augustine leaned forward, getting one hand in John’s hair and resting the other at the very top of his shirt, kissing him hard. John shut his eyes, melting forward, grabbing for the Saint, feeling the lean strength of his shoulders under the too-formal suit.

There was some protest from Harrow’s vague direction, but John wasn’t able to make out any specifics.

There was the sound of a door shutting somewhere, and some part of his mind was vaguely aware that the teenage Saints had left. Breathing was partly optional when you were the Necrolord Prime, but feeling Mercy’s fingertips undoing the buttons at the top of his collar as she reached around, pressing herself against his back, only made the sensation of the kiss all the more sensual. And when John did finally have to pull back to gasp for air, Mercy’s fingers caressed his chin and pulled him to her, and she kissed him just as deeply.

They passed him back and forth like that for a few times, one of them kissing him with the other getting him into a thoroughly disheveled state. Mercy was sat on one of his legs by then, and Augustine half draped over him and on the arm of his chair. When those two finally turned back to each other, grabbing at the other’s face with their usual intensity that bordered the start of a fight. It didn’t help John get his breath back any faster. Mercy and Augustine on their own would have been a sight, and one of them focusing on him as well. But together with the unbending force of their personalities and how striking they both were, he couldn’t help but watch, face growing hotter.

“Now might be a good time to ask,” Augustine said, and John was relieved to see that he also wasn’t unaffected, even if his gold and silver hair was still in place, and his blush was the faintest of pinks on his deathly pale cheeks, “How much farther would either of you be interested in taking this tonight?”

“Phfaugh, you fucker,” Mercy said, but she was grinning. Her hair was mussed, her dress had started to slip down a shoulder, but she was grinning for once, and her cheeks were also a delightful color. “It’s not like this is the first time! I’m down for anything.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was asking John as well?” Augustine said dryly, corner of his mouth quirking upward.

“Yes, but, you also need to ask me too,” Mercy said, leaning into John’s chest. She felt smaller than her usual presence like this, and putting an arm around her was instinctual. She felt warm, and smelled like the soap they all used and clean fabric and wine.

“She is right, you know,” John said, smiling into Mercy’s hair after kissing her forehead.

“Ha! Did you hear that, Augustine?” Mercy said, and kissed John again.

“I did,” Augustine said, watching them with interest. “Mark the calendar, flower of Joy, since you’ll not hear ‘you’re right’ again for a long time. And, John, I am asking you, too.”

John blushed again. “Well,” he began, “I would like to continue. I just feel I should say, it has been a very long time since I have been with a partner. Or two.”

“How long?” Mercy said.

“Oh, the better part of a century,” John said. The duties of the emperor of the Nine Houses were vast, and there had been various calamities over that time which had required his attention. It would have been irresponsible for him to put that aside for personal pleasure. But now, now with a few months until a Revenant caught up to them, now he had time. 

“You’re a more patient man than I,” Augustine said, and John grinned while Mercy let out a cackle.

“I have had my duties to the Nine Houses…” John said.

“You have, haven’t you. You’ve been very good, very focused on your duty,” Augustine said. “Mercy, what do you say we make sure John gets a reward for all of his hard work?”

Mercy grinned again, and said, “If you mean that we fuck him on the table hard enough that he won’t be able to walk right tomorrow, then yeah.”

“Not the words I would have chosen, but the precise sense of them,” Augustine said, and John felt a shiver go through him.

“Oh,” John said, feeling as the weight of their gazes, the heavy gazes of their dead cavaliers, turned back to him. He blushed, warm in his formal wear, warm with them both pressed close like this. “Yes, I’d like that.”

It seemed that Mercy’s grin was becoming a habit, at least for now. She gave John a quick kiss and started working on the buttons down his shirt while Augustine took ahold of his chin.

“I’d like to hear you say what it is that you want,” Augustine said. If Mercy’s grin was amused, then Augustine’s was downright filthy.

John swallowed, the light brush of Mercy’s fingertips down his chest making his heart beat faster than the old, half decayed thing had done in years. “I want you to fuck me,” he said, voice a little rough already.

Augustine leaned forward and kissed him, hard, threading a hand through John’s hair.

“Move over Augustine, you silly man, I’m trying to get his shirt off,” Mercy said, elbowing her fellow Saint as she slipped John’s shirt off and dropped it somewhere to the floor. “There, now this is much better.” She ran her hands up his chest again, lingering over his heart, even as she she sat on his lap, straddling a leg. Her dress was riding up her thighs, and he could feel how muscular she was as she pressed down and forward, starting to chase her own pleasure.

“Aren’t you impatient,” Augustine said to Mercy, pushing her hair back over a shoulder, bringing one of the dress straps down with it. She was wearing a strapless bra, black, plain, since of course anything frilly would be far too impractical for her. It still drew John’s eyes towards it, and to the exposed curve of her breast.

Mercy just grinned and reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside. She happily moved as John pulled her to sit up, taller, straddling him where he still sat, so he could bend and press a kiss at the very base of her throat.

“Come on, John, you’re still so very proper,” Augustine said, leaning over his shoulder. He reached with one hand out to cup one of Mercy’s boobs, giving it a good squeeze before reaching into John’s shirt to mimic the gesture with his chest.

And so as Augustine whispered instructions that were not needed, but they cast a warmer feeling on John’s cheeks all the same, he bent forward to properly give some attention to Mercy’s breasts. She was still loud, loud as he had remembered, loud as she was in conversation, and her gasps and cries from even just this were going right to his prick.

All of the redundant functions in John’s body were alight. His heart had started shaking and jumping as though it were trying to leap from his chest, his blood felt like it swam faster and hotter, his breath when he could catch it was ragged, rough, pulled out of his throat along with various sighs and moans that had this been a more decorous situation, would have been wholly inappropriate for the Necrolord Prime.

Mercy, predictably, decided when she had been teased enough and hopped backwards so she sat on the table, swinging her legs with an uncharacteristically coy smile. Augustine caught his hand in John’s hair, dragging his head back to kiss him, bitingly hard.

Augustine hauled him up, still kissing him, before gently pushing him before Mercy. From here, he was still very familiar with how to proceed.

Mercy’s underwear, plain black just like her bra, were already wet when he slid them down her legs, which she spread further.

“May I?” John said, fingers running along the insides of her thighs.

“You’d better,” Mercy said, but her face was pink, her voice less demanding and more asking.

So John bent forward, pressing first a kiss to her clit which made her gasp, feeling as already she pressed forward, smelling the distinct and familiar scent of her arousal as he got to work.

He had forgotten that Augustine liked to talk so much during sex. He still had his usual wry way of speaking, charismatic, charming, but with Augustine now pressed close against him in turn, fingers reaching under the neck of John’s shirt as he knelt before Mercy, it was going right to his head.

“Do you still like to get fucked?” Augustine said, almost casually.

John leaned back, taking in air he didn’t quite need, half enjoying the dizziness. “Oh, yes,” he said.

“Wonderful,” Augustine said with a smile. “I’ll let Mercy use you for a few moments more then I have an idea of how we can both enjoy you.”

“Augustine, shut up,” Mercy said, fingers in John’s hair, pushing him back between her legs where he went eagerly, enjoying the sharp tugging on his skull. “Everything doesn’t need to be according to you plan.”

“You’ll like it too, my joyful dear,” Augustine said, above John leaning forward to kiss Mercy down the line of her throat. John wasn’t exactly sure where those two went from there, but he heard the rustling of fabric even as he moved one of his hands from Mercy’s thigh to gently brush at her folds, now soft, wetter than before.

He could hear her still, and hear Augustine now murmuring things to her, some of which Mercy laughed off, others of which had her moaning and pressing harder against John’s mouth and fingers. It wasn’t long before she was shaking, unable to do anything but toss her head back as she tumbled over the edge. 

John kissed her still, feeling her lightly pulse afterwards. She was hotter now, especially where his fingers had gently caressed within her.

He was fully prepared to see if they could wring another orgasm out of her when Augustine and Mercy both reached for him, pulling him up.

Face still flushed, Mercy kissed him first, open-mouthed, undoubtably still tasting herself on his lips. Augustine had his chin and met his lips with his own as soon as Mercy let John go. 

He hadn’t noticed when Augustine had gotten rid of Mercy’s dress, so now she sat, decadently, with not a scrap of fabric on her atop the table. Augustine had lost his jacket and shirt at some point, so he now stood in his no longer crisp trousers, the long lines of his torso visible, pale, with a little of the same light silvery hair brushed down his chest and down the top of his trousers.

“You’re overdressed,” Mercy said, complaining again, as she slipped John’s own shirt off. It had been unbuttoned earlier, and now, as they quickly undressed him between them, he felt his blush return.

It really had been a long time since anyone but himself had seen his body. And even if he was immortal, even if this wasn’t the first time with these two, it felt a little like being seen for the first time.

John only saw interest in both their faces, as Mercy brushed her hands down his chest to his stomach, and Augustine said, a little hoarsely, “John, you old cad, get on the table.”

So he did, as Mercy hopped down. Augustine was the one to bend over him, pressing him down to the tablecloth, the dishes and empty bottles and goblets long since tossed aside. John saw as, behind Augustine, Mercy simply yanked his trousers and underwear off in one go. That lack of decorum or seduction was still so very her, and after giving giving Augustine a swat which he returned, she claimed onto the table again, also leaning over John.

“I hope we don’t break the table,” Mercy said, sounding like she rather hoped they did.

“If we do, I’m sure there’s another one someone we can haul in,” Augustine said, maddening calmly.

“In other circumstances I might appreciate you two minding the furniture, but right now, I really can’t bring myself to care,” John said, pressing upwards to Augustine in vain, since he still had John pinned.

“I will never mind the furniture again,” Mercy said, lips pinched.

“That is not what I meant,” John said, failing to sound indignant or indeed dignified.

“What did you mean then?” Augustine said, grinning as he made a show of looking up and down John’s supine body, still under him.

“I am sure you could never guess,” John said, letting his head fall back, no longer pressing up, instead letting Augustine and Mercy do with him as they pleased.

“Let me just…” Augustine stood up then bent, rummaging in his trouser pocket before emerging with a small jar of lube.

“I have to ask,” John said, half leaning up, glancing from one to the other, “were you expecting this?”

“Who’s to say?” Augustine said with a lazy smile, standing back up between John’s legs which he let fall open farther. “I make a point to always be prepared.”

Mercy, still perched on the table, bent over John, kissing him and running her hands over his chest and shoulders and arms. There was the sound of a cap opening, then John felt fingers finally, finally, touch his prick and another, farther back, gently, slowly, begin to press into him. Mercy was holding him down now, but still his whole body jolted involuntarily, needing to press both back and forward against both of Augustine’s hands.

He really wasn’t going to last very long if they continued. When Mercy finally broke away from his mouth, when he was truly needing to breathe, when he felt stretched from three fingers, then John said, “I… I’m very close.”

“If you can hold on just a moment longer,” Augustine said, sliding his fingers out and moving to slick up his own prick.

Mercy grinned and moved to straddle John, lining herself up and sliding down onto his cock in one smooth movement. It was an act of restraint to not come then and there, and again when Augustine too gripped the backs of his thighs, spreading John’s legs further as he pressed into John.

It was almost too much. John realized belatedly when they both began to move, somehow in tandem and somehow not bickering, that he was the one who was now gasping and moaning. His head was thrown back, eyes now shut, lost to the pleasure and sensation. This felt so good, so damned good, he was no longer the emperor, no longer the Necrolord Prime, he was just John again and how good it felt to be alive—

When he came it was with a shout. He felt Mercy again come apart, and moments after her, Augustine followed with a quiet gasp.

Mercy, still breathing heavily, hair falling onto John, let Augustine press her forward against John. Augustine bent, and kissed John again, pulling away briefly to kiss the back of Mercy’s neck.

John smiled, looking at them both above him. He felt warm, and it was silly to feel protected since he was the emperor, silly to feel loved, but there was a fullness in his chest where there was usually a cold an empty hole.

“Augustine, Mercy, I,” John began, but just kissed them each in turn instead, unable to finish his thought, emotion welling up in his throat.

“John, you’re lovely,” Mercy said, blinking slowly and languidly. “Augustine, you’re not terrible.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Augustine said, and Mercy made a face. Augustine kissed John once again. “You gorgeous man, John, we’ll have to all do this again.”

“I’d like that.” John’s face was warm again. They began to slowly disentangle themselves, reaching for napkins to clean off with. Face warm, in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, John said, “Would you both come to bed?”

Mercy and Augustine met each other’s eyes for a moment, before nodding, each leaning forward at the same time to kiss each of his cheeks. John took their hands and, with a smile, went with them to bed.


End file.
